The Ballet
We are
Seized
With glory
At the pageantry
And poignant
Story.
The chorus rises
And whirls,
A blur of tulle,
Stiff silk shoes
Padded with
Lamb’s wool,
So slender feet
Don’t bruise.
Such beauty,
Athletic grace
And skill!
I move like
Lead and
Always will.
The lover leaps
And points
His toes,
His lady
Gowned
In petals
Of a rose.
He gaily
Pirouettes,
She spins,
And all
Too soon,
The curtain
Descends.
We are
Struck with
Melancholy
When the
Magic ends.
We are
Seized
With glory
At the pageantry
And poignant
Story.
The chorus rises
And whirls,
A blur of tulle,
Stiff silk shoes
Padded with
Lamb’s wool,
So slender feet
Don’t bruise.
Such beauty,
Athletic grace
And skill!
I move like
Lead and
Always will.
The lover leaps
And points
His toes,
His lady
Gowned
In petals
Of a rose.
He gaily
Pirouettes,
She spins,
And all
Too soon,
The curtain
Descends.
We are
Struck with
Melancholy
When the
Magic ends.
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